Beggar
by CynicalInkSlinger
Summary: Edward was about to crack- about to head home and grovel for his love's forgiveness. What if he had? Angst will be heavy in first chapter, but it'll get better, hopefully. B/E
1. Chapter 1

Hello

Hello! This is merely a one shot that my brain cooked up and wouldn't let alone. It's a bit- okay, a lot- angsty, because while I hate Jacob and root for Edward, I think we all agree that he needs to be beaten up a little.

Oh, and, I don't own anything, so please don't sue. :P

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Quote

Agony. Misery. These things were but a pleasant memory to Bella, as she was engulfed by a dead feeling which deadened her awareness, her senses- everything but that dull constant ache.

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Edward lay on the floor of an attic in Brazil- abandoned. The attic, that is, though abandoned could apply to Edward's shell of a body equally as well. Every second, he could hear Bella's voice, see her smile, feel her hair against his fingers. Every millisecond, he would be disappointed, crushed with her absence, and see the look on her face after he'd betrayed her. He lay there, too hopeless to even cringe against the assault. Ever present, too, was the knowledge that it was all his fault- the pain could take him without qualm, for he did not suffer innocently.

He had been there for several days, after he had lost Victoria's trail. He had failed even at that.

He was fighting hard, now, fighting himself. Fighting to make it through even a minute now, living without his angel, his balm, his drug. Knowing that, if he just decided now, he could be with his love in a few paltry hours.

If she was even still his.

Fighting for seconds.

Finally, ink-black eyes open a crack, almost leaking with bittersweet defeat and exaltation. His broken body picks itself up, and he is running faster than humanly possible to the nearest airport.

Agony and guilt deeply carved into his face, he thinks of the millions of ways he would beg his love to take him back.

Like on his knees, at her perfect feet.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey there

**Hey there! Many thanks to the reviewers- I wrote the next chapter much quicker than I thought I would. Of course, I had extra time- I messed up my ankle so I got to stay home from school. It's still kinda short though. Sorry. Enjoy! And review! I know you have it in you!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Now hurry up with the story.**

**--cjb--cjb--cjb**

**Beggar: Chapter Two**

It was during the last hour of his flight to Seattle that Edward finally tried to organize his thoughts from the kind of painfully elated chaos that had filled it to thoughts of how he would attempt to gain his love's forgiveness- her love he dared not yet hope for.

It was also during the last hour of the flight that he realized he had nothing. He had no reason, no excuse no shred of dignity to offer her… unless she was happier, safer without him- and both situations were unbearable to think about, so much so that his expression became pained, and a not-so-purely-concerned flight attendant asked him about it. He waved her away, forcing a smile-like grimace.

He had lied to, _rejected_ an angel. Tossed aside the priceless gift of her love and trust like it was a bauble, a trifle, a mere fancy, when it was his _everything._

An inner voice bit at him for it, even as it grieved with the rest of him.

He was a half hour from Seattle when he realized that it couldn't matter. He could, and did, curse himself for his selfishness, but he would beg for Bella's heart even when he had nothing to offer in return but his own, paltry and confused about everything except for his love for her. He would follow her even if he failed, to watch over her happiness as his own disappeared.

And he was in a stolen car, 3 hours from Forks at normal speed, 1 ½ at his, when he realized something yet again. If she really didn't love him anymore, if there wasn't the slightest possibility, if she flinched away from his touch- he couldn't follow her. He would quite conceivably kill himself. Perhaps not at first, but that was the only possible end. Wthdrawal from Bella, his sweet medicinal and narcotic drug, could only result fatally.

It took him no time at all to know that this couldn't affect her decision. She would never know how her rejection could affect him. She would feel guilty, offer false acceptance, and he couldn't do that to either of them. His only influence on her choice would be completely illogical- begging for undeserved forgiveness, pleading for unearned love, and asking for unthinkable trust.

And a hour later, he was gathering courage and staying overeager longing in the forest next to his love's house.

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**Sorry for the cliffie! I'm surprised to find that I enjoy them. But your reviews- yeah, you there- make me amend them quickly, and with happiness. ;)**


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